


Like This, With You

by SomewhereFlying



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 2/2 Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Love Bites, M/M, P5R Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29157660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereFlying/pseuds/SomewhereFlying
Summary: It was February 2nd, and Akira had spent the bulk of the afternoon relieving himself of every last yen he owned. If it was going to be his last day in utopia, he was going to spend it in style – and with the only person he wanted, but knew he couldn't have forever.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 18
Kudos: 115





	Like This, With You

* * *

  
It was February 2nd, and Akira had spent the bulk of the afternoon relieving himself of every last yen he owned.

There was no rhyme or reason to what he purchased: clothes, equipment, and medicine, yes, but also fancy Featherman models for Futaba, a discontinued Buchimaru coin purse for Makoto, and food – so much food – for Yusuke. Price was no issue.

It wasn’t as if it mattered.

One way or another, the money needed to go. If they failed tomorrow, he’d be dead – the dead had no use for money – and if they succeeded… well. He’d go back to being a regular student, someone who probably shouldn’t have nearly one million yen to his name.

By four pm, Akira had spent nearly half of his ill-gotten gains. He had purchased every trivial item he could think of, and yet all the retail therapy in the world couldn’t ease the twisting pain in his chest.

As much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, the one thing he really wanted to have tonight was something he couldn't buy.  


* * *

  
One month ago, on the morning of January 3rd, Dr. Takuto Maruki had waltzed into Leblanc before the café had even opened, like it was no big deal, like he hadn’t disappeared out of Akira’s life for nearly two months now, like everything was normal.

But nothing was normal. Since the moment the clock had struck midnight on January 1st, nothing had been right at all. Akira had seen it, Kasumi had seen it, and even Akechi – who should have been in juvenile detention – had seen it, yet it seemed like they were the _only_ ones to notice that anything was amiss, that the dead were walking around, that injuries had mysteriously healed or never occurred in the first place, that everything was… perfect. Like a dream.

That morning, Akira found out why.

Maruki had greeted Sojiro politely and asked if he could speak to Akira alone for a few minutes. Despite his new reality, one in which Wakaba Isshiki was alive, well, and living with Sojiro and Futaba like the happy family he always wished he could have, Sojiro was never one to act the fool. He was immediately distrustful of Maruki, but Akira waved him off and assured him that it was fine.

Then he asked Sojiro to go out for a few minutes – just a few – maybe grab some groceries, run an errand he'd been meaning to do. Begrudgingly, Sojiro agreed, but as he was on his way out the door, Akira heard him speak again – not to him and not to Maruki, but to someone else:

"Oh hey, kid. You here to talk to him, too? Go on in, I guess."

Sojiro stepped aside and held the door open, and there appeared Goro Akechi, fully dressed in his dark ochre coat, his cheeks pinked like he had been out in the cold for quite some time already, like he had been… waiting there _(for what, Akira wondered? …for me?)_ until, by chance, Sojiro had caught him.

He stepped inside, his lips set in a thin line, not a trace of amusement on his face, and Akira couldn’t help but notice that he looked so different now. Oh, certainly he was still the same old Akechi, with the same soft brown hair and deep garnet eyes, but the way he carried himself – his entire disposition, really – had changed. He was no longer the prim and proper detective prince, nor was he the desperate, furious assassin in a black mask; he was just a jaded, tired young man, no different than Akira himself.

"I'm glad you're here, Akechi-kun," Maruki had said after Akechi came inside. "After all, this concerns you, too."

"And what do you mean by that, precisely?" Akechi asked. "As far as I know, this is the first time you and I have met."

"In person, perhaps,” Maruki said, “but I've known about you for quite some time now. About you and Kurusu-kun both."

Akechi's eyes had flickered over to Akira's in that moment. Uncertainly, they stared at each other, but Maruki was all gentle smiles as he sat down at an empty booth table, gesturing for Akira and Akechi to sit across from him. Ultimately, Akira did so, but Akechi chose to remain standing, petulant to a fault, as they both waited for Maruki to explain himself.

"So," Maruki had finally said. "What do you think?"

“…what do I think about what?” Akira asked.

Maruki smiled wider, his eyes crinkling beneath his glasses.

“About this world. You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” he asked.

“This… world,” Akira repeated.

This world, where the dead were walking around? Where Morgana was human? Surely, he couldn’t mean…

"I’m sorry, are you implying that this is your doing? If so, I appreciate you saving us the trouble of tracking you down ourselves," Akechi immediately replied. "As for what I think, it’s disgusting. You truly thought you could just wave your hands and fix everyone's problems for them?"

"But haven't I?" Maruki asked. He turned back to Akira. "Look around. Kurusu-kun, you had the chance to see all of your friends by now. Don't they seem happy? At peace?"

Akira was loath to admit it, but Maruki was absolutely right. Just in the brief moment he had spent with his friends at the New Years’ shrine, he heard that Ann planned to spend her afternoon with Shiho, Ryuji with his mother, celebrating his success on the track team, Yusuke with Madarame – now a thoughtful and caring sensei – and Makoto with her sister… and their _father,_ and Haru with hers, and Futaba with her mother. _Every_ wish Akira had ever heard his friends mention had suddenly been granted to them, and they had no memory of the time they had spent with Akira over the past year – at least, not of the time they had spent together as Phantom Thieves.

And why should they? The very reasons they had become Phantom Thieves in the first place had been erased from existence.

"And at what cost?" Akechi cut in before Akira could even speak. "You may not have noticed, but there are plenty of people for whom your 'perfect reality' is anything but." He turned his lip up in a sneer. "Maybe you haven't spent as much time in your utopia as you should have."

"Do you really think so, Akechi-kun?" Maruki asked, still the picture of tranquility in the face of Akechi's anger. "I'll admit my work is far from done, but hasn't it been nice? You're a free man here. There's nothing stopping you from spending your time as you wish. And the same goes for you, Akira-kun."

Akira couldn’t deny that, either. He hadn’t done much digging, but no one seemed aware of his criminal record anymore. Akechi’s crimes, and Akira’s false record – were these things gone, too?

"Dr. Maruki," Akira said slowly, "why are you doing this? It looks like your plan went off just fine. Why come talk to me at all?"

Maruki had leaned back in his booth seat then, not saying anything at first.

“Because you noticed,” he finally said. “You and Akechi-kun both – you noticed that things weren’t as they seemed. And considering you have access to the Metaverse, I thought you might try to change things back to the way they were.”

“Very clever, not that it would have been difficult to guess,” Akechi said. “So then, you’re here to put a stop to that? To _us?_ ”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Maruki said. “I just… want you to know what you’d be giving up, if things went back to normal.”

"Stop speaking in circles," Akechi snapped. "Tell us what you mean."

Maruki had sighed, looking at Akechi like a parent might look at a stubborn child, before turning his attention back to Akira again.

“You know, I see a lot of myself in you, Akira-kun,” he said. “My strengths, but my weaknesses, too. Neither of us could save the people we loved most…”

Akira felt his throat begin to go dry.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I looked into your heart, Akira-kun,” Maruki said, “and I saw your wish. The promise you made to Akechi-kun. And then, when I finally learned what happened in Shido-san’s Palace… well. I knew what I had to do for you.”

Akira thought his heart must have stopped and dropped right into his stomach at the mention of Shido’s ship. The memory of that day was never far from his mind, so to have it brought up so suddenly… Akira thought back to everything he had seen since the new year began. Wakaba Isshiki having breakfast in Leblanc. Kunikazu Okumura spending quality time with his daughter. If Maruki was telling the truth, _he_ had been the one to actualize those dreams, to make them real.

“So,” Akira’s voice was shaking as his mind put the pieces together, “for me, you…”

“That’s right. Understand that I never intended to pry into your private life,” Maruki said, and to his credit, he seemed genuinely apologetic. “But I just want you to know exactly what it would mean for Akechi-kun if you were to try and stop me.”

“This is blackmail,” Akechi snarled suddenly, his hands curling into tight fists at his side. “You’re sick, dangling my life like a carrot before him. And I bet you still think yourself the hero of this little story, don’t you?”

Maruki was unperturbed. “All I wanted was to give you the opportunity I never had: to be happy together, like you deserve."

“What makes you think I deserve anything, least of all your _pity?_ ” Akechi asked. “You sick bastard. He didn’t ask for this – _I_ didn’t ask for this.”

His voice was sharp and cold like a steel blade, but Akira could see him trembling, too – out of rage, maybe, or maybe… something else.

Maruki simply shrugged, slipping out of the booth seat and getting to his feet.

“I came to you today because I wanted to give you a chance to decide for yourselves,” he had said on his way out the door. “I’ll give you some time. On February 2nd, I’ll come back. If you still decide you want to oppose me, well… I won’t be able to stop you. But try to make the most of this month, okay…?”

Then he was gone, leaving Akira and Akechi alone in Leblanc. Outside, the wind whistled, the air bitterly cold, and even though he was indoors, Akira’s limbs felt numb. Silently, Akechi took Maruki’s place in the booth across from Akira.

“So,” he said, “should I take this as a confession?”

He spoke so casually, like he was asking Akira to dinner.

“I–” Akira spluttered. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?” Akechi raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Well, let me explain. It might be easier to use an example, so let’s look at your friends, shall we? If we take what that man – Maruki-san, was it? – if we take what he said as the truth, then he’s done something for each of them in this new world of his. Granted them a wish, if you will.”

Akechi held up four fingers. “From what you told me yesterday, four of their wishes had to do with other people. Niijima-san wished for a closer relationship with her sister and father; Futaba-chan, for her mother to be alive again, and for the two of them to have a family with Sakura-san. Okumura-san likewise wished for her father to live, and lastly, Takamaki-san wished to spend more time with her friend… the volleyball player, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, with Shiho,” Akira confirmed. “Akechi, I don’t really get where you’re going with this.”

“Everyone wished to be able to spend more time with the ones they love the most,” Akechi said, enunciating each syllable slowly and clearly. “That is where I’m going with this.”

“It’s… that’s not…”

“Do you deny it?” Akechi asked. “Surely I don’t need to explain to you the love inherent between a parent and their children, or between sisters, and I’ve seen the way Takamaki looks at Shiho-san. It’s love… it’s undeniable. And Akira-kun, I was your wish. So I ask again… am I to take this as a confession?”

Akira opened his mouth, closed it again, looked to Akechi and looked away, and finally, he said,

“Yes, it is.”  


* * *

  
Just like Maruki had told them, they had spent the month together. Not in the way Maruki had wanted, probably; they spent more days than not in his Palace, fighting off shadows and seeking out his treasure, and the days that weren’t spent in the Metaverse were spent trying to coax the other Phantom Thieves into seeing past Maruki’s illusion.

But still, there were some days, some nights, when their work was done and they had no other obligations to attend to, that Akira and Akechi would spend their free time… together. Trips to Jazz Jin, or to a small café somewhere in Shibuya, or a quiet evening in Leblanc, drinking coffee and distracting each other from their looming deadline. Never admitting what they were doing – at least, not out loud – but just enjoying one another’s company. And it had been… nice.

They were days Akira could imagine having for the rest of his life, if only he could be so lucky.

Now, one month later, Akira was standing in the lobby of a luxury hotel in Shinagawa. It was built on top of an aquarium – the same one he and Akechi had visited over the summer – and the interior was exactly as nice as he expected it to be, shining hard wood floors and spotless furniture, glittering light fixtures that radiated extravagance. It was perfect.

If this was to be Akira's last night in utopia, he wanted to spend it in style.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the concierge said as he approached the desk. She smiled and bowed gently to him. “What may I help you with?”

“How much to rent your penthouse for the night?” Akira asked.

The woman looked taken aback, her eyes going wide with surprise.

“Um… sir, that’s quite an expensive room; are you sure I can’t –”

Wordlessly, Akira pulled out a stack of yen bills from his pocket and placed them on the desk in front of her.

“How much?” he repeated.

* * *

It was a nice room, Akira had to admit. Huge and spacious, easily double the size of Leblanc, and that was just one room, a living area with an attached kitchen. Farther back, there was a room with a bed so large Akira thought he could fit most of the Phantom Thieves in it, and a bathroom that might have been bigger than his attic. It was the nicest room he had ever seen, grand and luxurious and…

Empty. Lonely, just like Akira had felt all month. Even after his friends woke up to Maruki’s reality and joined him and Akechi in the fight to restore reality, Akira had felt isolated. There was only one person, it seemed, who truly understood what he was going through.

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Anticipation buoyed in Akira’s chest, and he hurried to the door, opening it a crack without bothering to check and see who it was first.

“Akechi,” Akira breathed out. “You came.”

“You invited me,” Akechi replied. He stepped over the threshold into the room, toeing off his shoes and leaving them by the door. “Was I supposed to just ignore your message?”

“No – I’m glad you’re here. I just… didn’t think you’d come.”

Akechi scoffed. “I only came because I assumed you had a good reason for asking me somewhere so… out of the way,” he said, casting a glance around the hotel room. “How extravagant. What, did Dr. Maruki cause you to have won the lottery in his new reality?”

“I just wanted to sleep in a real bed tonight, that’s all,” Akira said, letting the door shut behind Akechi. After a moment’s hesitation, he clicked the lock, too. Akechi hummed, still looking critically around the room. Akira couldn’t tell if he was judging Akira positively or negatively.

“Well?” Akechi asked him after a moment. “We don’t have much time to be fooling around. What do you want?”

 _You,_ Akira thought. Akechi, here – that was all Akira really wanted. It was just that he wanted this forever, when he really only had one more night. Less than a full day, at this point.

But what he actually said was, “Do you want a drink?”

For the first time that night, Akechi seemed to be completely caught off-guard by what Akira said.

“Do I – what?”

“Do you want a drink?” Akira repeated, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey on the counter. “I called the front desk and asked them for the nicest alcohol they had, and this is what they sent me.”

“And how much did that cost you?” Akechi asked.

“Does it matter?” Akira asked, moving to pour a glass for himself and one for Akechi.

“I suppose not.”

“So do you want some?”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Akira shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He set the whiskey bottle down and picked up his glass, moving around the counter to stand beside Akechi.

“Akira,” Akechi said with a sigh, “tell me the truth. Why did you message me? What are we doing here?”

“Spending our last day on Earth together,” Akira said, holding up his glass and giving it a sniff. He wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell. People really drank this stuff for fun?

As he raised the glass to his lips, however, Akechi swatted it out of his hand. It sailed through the air, spilling liquid over the rug before smashing into pieces.

“Damn it!” Akechi snapped, suddenly right up in Akira’s face. “Are you even taking this seriously? Tomorrow is vitally important, and you want to spend the night _drinking?_ Do you even care about what’s at stake here?!”

“I don’t–” Akira’s breath hitched. He could already feel the tug of hot tears pulling on his eyes. “No, I don’t want to drink; I just…”

Akira wasn’t often emotional. He was good at keeping his feelings under wraps; the few times he didn’t always went poorly for him. It took a lot to make him break down and cry, but he always knew when it was going to happen. Something inside him grew and grew, a swirling turmoil of emotions that filled up every crevice of his body, pressure rising until he had no choice but to let it out. He took a long, shaky breath in through his nose, felt his chest heave with exertion, until the first tears broke free, slipping down his cheeks. He pulled his glasses off before they could get in the way.

“Tomorrow, you’ll…”

His voice shook with the weight of his unspoken words, and Akechi stared at him, eyes suddenly wide, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Akira,” Akechi said, tone serious but eyes betraying uncertainty, “you can’t–”

“I _have_ to!” Akira exclaimed. “I already mourned you once, and now you’re leaving again. Again… Goro.”

Unconsciously, they drifted towards one another, Akira falling limply against Akechi’s chest. Akechi went stiff, but after a few seconds, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around Akira, who finally allowed himself to cry freely. He shuddered and shook, trying to choke out broken sentences in between his tears.

“Don’t want to give you up – not again. I’m… I’m gonna miss you, Goro.”

“Akira,” Akechi said again, softer this time. He was shaking, too, little trembles shivering through his body. “This – this is why I tried to tell you–”

“Shut _up,_ ” Akira muttered. He threw his arms around Akechi’s shoulders, holding him even more tightly, trying to memorize the weight and the shape of his body. “I don’t care… I never get to do what I want. So, just for a little while, I wanted…”

Akechi. He wanted _Akechi,_ and he had never felt more selfish in his life.

He was no fool; he understood well enough what Maruki meant when he said that this reality was a place where they could “be together”. He remembered that moment on Shido’s yacht, when the bulkhead fell and Futaba lost Akechi’s signal completely.

In a less perfect world, Goro Akechi was dead at worst and lost to the Metaverse at best. That he was here now, wrapped beneath Akira’s arms, was nothing short of a miracle.

He knew what Akechi was going to say if Akira expressed himself, however. It was the same thing he’d been saying all month: don’t give in. To live in a world under Maruki’s thumb was, quite literally, a fate worse than death for Akechi.

But for Akira…

“I could be happy,” he murmured, burying his head in Akechi’s shoulder and rubbing his cheek against the scratchy fabric of his coat. “Like this. With you.”

“You – you can’t,” Akechi stammered in reply, yet he made no move to push Akira away.

“But I could.”

“You’re… going to be tempted tomorrow. Maruki knew that. It’s exactly why he told you about me.”

“I _won’t,_ ” Akira said, his voice suddenly firm. He pushed himself off of Akechi, wiping away a few errant tears. “I’m not going to be tempted. Fuck, Goro, I made you a promise.”

“…yes, you’re right,” Akechi said quietly. “I apologize. I know you’re very good at keeping your word.”

“So,” Akira said, swallowing back the lump in his throat to keep his words from breaking, “so I just thought… tonight, we could… together…”

He trailed off, and Akechi laughed softly, shaking his head.

“Sentimental fool.”

Carefully, he slipped one glove off of his hand, then the other, and he reached out to cup Akira’s cheek, and though his fingers were cold, Akira leaned into his touch anyway, nuzzling his cheek against Akechi’s palm. He took a step closer and wound his arms around Akechi’s waist. Akechi’s hand moved to tangle in his fringe of Akira’s hair, and Akira leaned in closer still, canting his head to the side and pressing their lips together.

In one terrifying, electric moment, Akira felt everything stop. For a moment, this _was_ Akira’s whole reality – Akechi, and nothing more. Then Akechi began to move his lips against Akira’s, and time snapped back into place. Suddenly, Akira couldn’t get enough. He drank in every noise Akechi made, kissing him feverishly, like he might never get the chance again.

Because he wouldn’t. But there was no time to dwell on that.

Akira didn’t remember moving to the bedroom, but he remembered falling onto the plush mattress with Akechi on top of him. He remembered the detective caging him in, keeping his arms pinned to his sides while he undid each button on his shirt with a tortuously languid pace. He remembered the feeling of warm, soft, skin on his own bare chest, and the beat of Akechi’s heart, fluttering and quick. He remembered, he would _always_ remember. He couldn’t bear to forget.

“Akira.”

Akechi’s voice sounded unlike anything Akira had ever heard before. It was gentler than Akira expected, more vulnerable – desperate. When Akira looked him in the eyes, he found Akechi to be shaking slightly, his eyes dark with lust.

“Akira,” he said again, “bite me.”

“…what?”

“Mark me,” Akechi said. “Show me, prove to me that I’m… yours. “

Akira groaned, leaning forward and pressing his lips gently to Akechi’s collarbone. Akechi whimpered at the soft touch.

“No,” he whispered, pushing his body up against Akira’s. “Harder. I need – it needs to leave a mark. Something physical. So I can know, without a doubt, that this is real…”

Ah, so that was what this was about. After everything that had come to light these past few weeks, it was no wonder Akechi was distrustful of his own memories. He was a detective – he needed concrete evidence before he could believe something.

So Akira parted his lips and sucked, hard.

Akechi’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a content sigh.

Akira rolled his hips, grinding against Akechi’s naked body, and after a few long seconds, pulled away. He could see a bruise forming on Akechi’s pale, otherwise-flawless skin, and he felt a surge of pride. He understood now, he was pretty sure, why Akechi had wanted him to do this: it made him feel an unanticipated sense of joy to see a physical sign of his affection on Akechi’s body. No one, not Maruki nor Yaldabaoth nor anyone else, could take this away from them.

“You’re mine,” Akira murmured, his voice low and soft. He moved down Goro’s chest, licking over his nipple and biting the sensitive skin just around it. “And I’m all yours.”

“Mine,” Goro whispered.

_”Yes.”_

Akira pulled away briefly and resettled himself between Goro’s legs. He kissed the inside of Goro’s thigh and set about sucking another love bite into his skin, slipping his fingers down farther and working Akechi open slowly, gently, until his grunts of discomfort turned into gasps of pleasure.

“Goro,” Akira whispered, blinking back tears even now. “I love you.”

Akechi gasped, his breath hitching, his whole body jerking in reaction to Akira’s words.

“…I do, too,” Akechi murmured. He reached out for Akira's hand and laced their fingers together. “Akira – please…”

And even as their pleasure grew, tears flowed freely down their cheeks, mingling together until Akira couldn’t tell who was crying, and they collapsed on top of one another, holding each other in a tight embrace until their breathing started to even out again. They lay there for a long time, dozing in and out of sleep, content to just be in one another’s arms, warm and happy.

“It’s getting late,” Akechi eventually said, running his fingers through the curly tufts of Akira's hair. “If we’re tired, we won’t stand a chance against Maruki tomorrow…”

“Just a little longer,” Akira insisted. He pulled the bedsheet up around them and snuggled just a bit closer.

“No wonder Morgana is always getting on your case,” Akechi said, his voice tinged with fondness even as he teased Akira.

Akira's lips turned up into a fleeting smile. “Yeah,” he said, and then,

“Goro…?”

“Hm?”

“All this time… you really never thought about accepting Maruki’s reality?”

“No,” Akechi said. “Never.”

He sighed and sat upright, propping a pillow up behind his neck.

“You might think it’s strange, but I don’t regret any of the choices I’ve made. Even my stupidest, most childish decisions… they made me the person I am today. If Maruki were to alter reality, distort my memories until those poor choices of mine no longer existed… it would be the same as dying. “Goro Akechi” would no longer exist. If you look at it from that perspective, then either option – accepting Maruki’s world or returning to our true reality – would have the same outcome for me.”

“But…”

“Akira.”

Akechi placed a hand on Akira’s cheek and looked him straight in the eye.

“You love me, don’t you?” he asked. “Me, your betrayer. Your murderer. Your rival. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Akira said. “Yes, you, my teammate, my friend – Goro, all of you.”

Akechi took this moment to kiss him, long and slow.

“Then accept me, as I am,” Akechi said as he pulled away. “Accept nothing less.”

“Of course,” Akira said. “Of course I do.”

Akechi smiled.

“Then tomorrow, let’s go back. To our own reality… no matter what that means.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2/2 :') 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ♥


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